Do you play other Instruments than Guitar?

Why would we think that was a joke? No real musician laughs at the mighty kazoo. I've tried for years to learn to play one, and just can't get the hang of it. I guess it's just over my head.

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Because of the association with the Flintstones alien character.

I used to receive a bunch of comments when playing acoustic and accompaniment on kazoo. It did liven up a couple songs some years back, that was for sure. I think my kazoo now sits retired along with other stuff in storage.

I think I tried using a harmonica shoulder clip holder with the kazoo when my hands were occupied and it seemed to work well. Donated the harmonica clip holder recently but still chose to keep my opened/used kazoo for health safety/nostalgia reasons...

Piano, Organ (listed separately because I can do the bass pedals while playing), harmonica, bass, synths (separate because I program the darn things), accordion, a little mandolin (done poorly), and a smattering of flute (and I’m really bad on flute).

Piano’s my main instrument, though I kinda play the studio, if that makes any sense.

Piano, Organ (listed separately because I can do the bass pedals while playing), harmonica, bass, synths (separate because I program the darn things), accordion, a little mandolin (done poorly), and a smattering of flute (and I’m really bad on flute).

Piano’s my main instrument, though I kinda play the studio, if that makes any sense.

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I used piano (Wurlitzer practice electric) to arrange in College Music. Not much facility required, just
chords and plenty of goof strips for the manuscript paper.

Guitar has been my base instrument since I was 8yrs old. My mom taught me a bit of piano, which translated into her organ, remembering getting caught in sanctuary attempting "Whiter Shade of Pale" on that Giant Hammond..."But, but, It's spiritual"!! Ukulele has been my newest conveyance for about 20 yrs. I'm semi good on it.

The first instrument I had the run of was an ancient pump organ - two foot pumps the size of cake pans. I was 8 or 9 and my legs were too short to sit and pump so I had to stand on the pumps below the keyboard and reach up to play. My arms were long enough to cover about three octaves. It was friggin’ awesome.

I played the Alto sax for 3 years, and the Baritone sax for 2 after that (in Marching and Jazz Band). Traded the Alto in on my first guitar.

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Marching and jazz??!! Me too, bro! Symphonic, pit, pep, jazz, and marching all thru high school and college. Bari in jazz, alto in everything else with a bit of tenor and soprano mixed in. Purdue’s marching band was hardcore, too. Incredible experiences.

Oh, and mandolin on basically one song that I haven’t sung in like 20 years...Losing My Religion.

Haha! I had a similar experience that will demonstrate what a numbskull I am.

I had an interview with a recruiter for a certain Ivy school that I had absolutely no business even considering, and had no chance of getting into.

The interview took place at his gorgeous, ornate home that was done up kind of like a medieval manor house. Obviously, he’d knocked it out of the park in terms of success.

I, on the other hand, was a most unimpressive candidate, and with each answer I gave, I could see the recruiter kind of looking at me like, “What is this kid even doing here?” Nor did I blame him for thinking that; I didn’t know, either. It was my parents’ idea because I’d tested well on the college entrance exams.

At one point in the interview, I noticed that the guy had a beautiful pipe organ in a special room near the living room. Three manuals, real pipes, full bass pedals, the whole, real, deal. I made the mistake of saying, “Wow, that’s an incredible instrument!”

He said to me (no doubt thinking I could play something from Bach on it) “Oh, do you play the organ?” The look on his face said, maybe the kid has musical talent and that’s why he’s here. And I said, yes, I played in a band.

“Then you must play for me, I insist.”

What I should have said was, “No thanks, it’s not what you’re expecting, it’s a rock band.”

But I really wanted to play the damn thing! So he walked me over to it, and fired up the electric pump that sent air through the pipes, and said, “Please play!”

So...I messed with the stops, and got a sound, and commenced playing “Green Onions,” the old Booker T. and the MGs song. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the guy kind of had his head cocked to one side, with one of those, “There’s definitely something wrong with this kid” expressions. But I was having fun on this giant pipe organ, and it was nice and LOUD. Green Onions, cranked to the max on a real pipe organ! I mean, how many chances do you get to play Green Onions on a real pipe organ?

“Um, can you play anything else,” he said. I mean, the voice was glum.

Sure thing!

I then played House of the Rising Sun, complete with organ solo.

Sounded killer. To me.

Not to him.

He had a really, really disappointed look on his face. I knew he wouldn’t let me play the intro to In A Gadda Da Vida, which would have been next on my hit parade, and which I really wanted to hear on that organ! I decided to spare him that experience, and spare myself the look of utter disapproval, and stood up to go.

Both he and I knew that his school and my so-called brain weren’t a match, though he politely finished the interview, said, “Well, that was a really...um...interesting interview,” again with that expression on his face that said this kid is an idiot, and handed me the application to fill out.

I pretended that I had a chance in hell of going there and thanked him and took it, and when I got home, I secretly crumpled it up and threw it into the trash.

One day my parents asked me, “Whatever happened with that Ivy League school? Did you ever hear from them?”

Haha! I had a similar experience that will demonstrate what a numbskull I am.

I had an interview with a recruiter for a certain Ivy school that I had absolutely no business even considering, and had no chance of getting into.

The interview took place at his gorgeous, ornate home that was done up kind of like a medieval manor house. Obviously, he’d knocked it out of the park in terms of success.

I, on the other hand, was a most unimpressive candidate, and with each answer I gave, I could see the recruiter kind of looking at me like, “What is this kid even doing here?” Nor did I blame him for thinking that; I didn’t know, either. It was my parents’ idea because I’d tested well on the college entrance exams.

At one point in the interview, I noticed that the guy had a beautiful pipe organ in a special room near the living room. Three manuals, real pipes, full bass pedals, the whole, real, deal. I made the mistake of saying, “Wow, that’s an incredible instrument!”

He said to me (no doubt thinking I could play something from Bach on it) “Oh, do you play the organ?” The look on his face said, maybe the kid has musical talent and that’s why he’s here. And I said, yes, I played in a band.

“Then you must play for me, I insist.”

What I should have said was, “No thanks, it’s not what you’re expecting, it’s a rock band.”

But I really wanted to play the damn thing! So he walked me over to it, and fired up the electric pump that sent air through the pipes, and said, “Please play!”

So...I messed with the stops, and got a sound, and commenced playing “Green Onions,” the old Booker T. and the MGs song. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the guy kind of had his head cocked to one side, with one of those, “There’s definitely something wrong with this kid” expressions. But I was having fun on this giant pipe organ, and it was nice and LOUD. Green Onions, cranked to the max on a real pipe organ! I mean, how many chances do you get to play Green Onions on a real pipe organ?

“Um, can you play anything else,” he said. I mean, the voice was glum.

Sure thing!

I then played House of the Rising Sun, complete with organ solo.

Sounded killer. To me.

Not to him.

He had a really, really disappointed look on his face. I knew he wouldn’t let me play the intro to In A Gadda Da Vida, which would have been next on my hit parade, and which I really wanted to hear on that organ! I decided to spare him that experience, and spare myself the look of utter disapproval, and stood up to go.

Both he and I knew that his school and my so-called brain weren’t a match, though he politely finished the interview, said, “Well, that was a really...um...interesting interview,” again with that expression on his face that said this kid is an idiot, and handed me the application to fill out.

I pretended that I had a chance in hell of going there and thanked him and took it, and when I got home, I secretly crumpled it up and threw it into the trash.

One day my parents asked me, “Whatever happened with that Ivy League school? Did you ever hear from them?”

Marching and jazz??!! Me too, bro! Symphonic, pit, pep, jazz, and marching all thru high school and college. Bari in jazz, alto in everything else with a bit of tenor and soprano mixed in. Purdue’s marching band was hardcore, too. Incredible experiences.

Oh, and mandolin on basically one song that I haven’t sung in like 20 years...Losing My Religion.

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Yeah, I went from 5th grade through 9th grade. Band teacher in the 9th grade was a total jerk. Kinda like that guy in Whiplash, or Gordon Ramsey. Turned me off on the whole thing.